Never Faint
by Sache8
Summary: After the events of Missing, Teyla must find a way to cope.  Spoilers for Missing and general S4.


**TITLE** - Never Faint

**AUTHOR - **Sache8

**RATING - **PG

**GENRE - **Friendship/Angst

**SUMMARY - **After the events of Missing, Teyla must learn to cope.

**DISCLAIMER** - If Atlantis belonged to me, this fic, or at least one paragraph of it, would not have happened. So... not mine. Obviously, LOL.

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**Never Faint**

_by Sache8_

_Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint._  
Jane Austen, _Mansfield Park_

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It was colder here.

On Lantea it had never been cold. The sun had shone hot and the wind had tempered it to a pleasant effect. The rain had been warm and welcoming. Here, more than half the time the sky was covered in pale, lifeless clouds that stretched from horizon to horizon.

Teyla sat on the window seat in the gymnasium, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the early morning frost on the multi-colored glass. Her bare feet were cold but she paid them no heed. She thought about life. The path her life had taken, the new life with which she had now so suddenly been entrusted.

She should have been happier. In time she knew she would be, but sorrow and isolation were combined in an ache so pervasive that Teyla sometimes felt she might truly lose her mind.

_Kenahn._

She could reach out and grasp at phantoms, the ghosts of the feelings she would have enjoyed had she been able to share this news with him. With their people.

If her people were truly gone, then her child would grow up here, in Atlantis, raised by scientists and soldiers. He would learn about football and ferris wheels and the Fantastic Four, biology, mathematics, astrophysics, Shakespeare, and how to make a really killer coney dog. And his mother would teach him bantos fighting and of the ring ceremony and how to make tuttleroot soup but he would never be truly Athosian.

She heard the doors open but did not look to see who was there.

"Have you been here all night?"

John. She turned her head reluctantly. Part of her was glad for the company, and part of her felt sad just at the sight of him. Sometimes to Teyla it seemed that John and Atlantis were one and the same. John and Atlantis who had dazzled her away from home. "Yes," she said in answer to his question.

"Ronon said you kicked the crap out of him worse than usual last night." John took a cautious step into the room toward her. "Though I can understand, you must be feeling awful right now."

"Ronon is the only person who really knows what I feel right now," she said impassively. Inwardly she winced, knowing how cold that had sounded, a feeling confirmed by the flash of hurt that passed through John's eyes but he swallowed it back.

"You're probably right," he said quietly. "But I'm here if you need someone to talk to. Or," he added helpfully, "someone else to hit. You know I make a great punching bag." He offered a watery smile.

Her return smile was the faintest echo and did not reach her eyes. "I should never have left them," she said. She stared hard, daring him to contradict her. "I should have been with them. To fight." She turned her head back to the window. "Or to share in their fate. What kind of leader abandons her own people?" The last was a murmur, spoken more to herself than to her friend.

John did not reply at first. He finished crossing the distance to her and took a seat opposite. He pulled his legs up, put his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands loosely together, staring at her sadly. "I guess I have no right to speak to that," he said. "I've always known we were very lucky to have so much of you."

He fell silent and for a long time they sat together in the gray stillness. Finally, John said, "Whatever happens, I hope you think of us as family too."

Teyla swallowed, a tear escaping from one eye and she looked away, blinking hard. She knew he meant well, but John could never really understand. His people numbered in the billions. She knew every one of her people by name. And if she could not save them, the ways of Athos would become mere memory within a single generation. Also, he could not understand that her family here on Atlantis was smaller than he probably knew.

That too was being slowly torn away.

She would have told Elizabeth first about the baby. Elizabeth, who would have made a celebration with one smile, who would have shared in Teyla's joy like a sister, and only as another woman possibly could. And it should have been Carson who told her about the baby, and it should have been Kate who sat with her now, trying to coax her out of her shell, and it should have been Aiden who would have given her child his first taste of chocolate.

A heaving sob pulled from her lips and suddenly she was crying hot, angry, despairing tears such as she hadn't allowed since she was fifteen years old. She sprang to her feet, stormed three steps to the practice dummy and began pummeling her heartache out through her fists, adding screams to her sobs, seeing nothing with her eyes all the while.

When she was finally spent of the anger, John was there to hold her as she cried, until the sorrow too had ebbed and she felt too tired to think about anything anymore.

"You know," he finally dared to say after a long, long while, "I know I said I was willing to be a punching bag, but after seeing you take it out on that guy, I'm kinda glad you didn't take me up on that."

Teyla laughed into his damp shirtfront. It wasn't much of a laugh, but it felt good nonetheless.

"Feel better?" he asked.

She sat up, wiping her eyes. "Yes."

"Ready to come back now?" he added. "We're all a little worried about you."

She had enjoyed her childish moment, her tantrum. Now it was time to be strong again. Strength was a choice, and it was _her_ choice. She was still a leader. That much had not changed.

She picked up her bag and followed John out of the gym. As they passed through the doors she rested her hand briefly on her stomach. The joy was a little bit stronger now, the pain a little less pronounced. There was still hope, after all.

There was always hope.

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A/N**: I took a 100 guess at how to spell the name of Teyla's Athosian guy friend. The reference to Shakespeare was requested by **Melyanna** and also I think it's important to point out that the role of the Practice Dummy in this fic is played by none other than our beloved Joe Mallozzi. 

Feedback would be great, that is if I didn't totally depress everyone. Hehe. Oy.

Saché


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